Splinters Saloon

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Bluebelle

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Belle takes the staircase down to the counter with a broad smile for the small crowd already gathered for the afternoon. "G' even' folks" she says with a blooming smile taking a tired old stool from the far end of the bar to place down her books and rest the pen she untucks from behind an ear. The patrons return the sentiment as they mingle and order, while she looks on now and again from a distance, smiling to herself..


Splinters had been opened on a cusp between the old and the new. Down by the junkyard it garnered an eclectic, electric crowd of people, ranging from the docks workers straight through the noble merchants who sought something livelier for their night.

With ink dipped, she begins to make her notes, for the evening ahead.
 
An introduction..

Bluebelle, as she known by everyone and as nothing else ('less "Belle") is the proprietor and manager of Splinters Saloon; a cosey, dark wooded affair with wide windows at the front, and two levels, one for rooms and below a selection of chairs, lounges, long and smaller, boothed tables, and a curtained off section for smokers, private parties and pool tables.

It attracts a wide array of people. A cross section of outlaws, bandits, rangers, mercenaries as well as the distinguished factions of Ayenee proper.

Bluebelle herself stands at the heart of the building and its people, a mish mash herself of elegance and grace with the spunky sass of a street savvy siren. Long navy blue hair threaded through with braids and fetishes, silvery eyes which sometimes warm to a violet hue when smoldering or glowering, and most every day some arrangement of white; a likely story of cotton and silk in stockings and boots and tiered shirts, with a loose skirt over the waist.. There is a charisma and electricity about her, an almost stormy static.
 
the slim figure standing to the right of the entrance doorway, looked down at her clothes with a shallow sigh. her clothes were not tattered but just severely travel worn. one day i'll have to go home instead of just buying on the go, she thought to herself. trying to brush the dust off didn't work so with a sly look around, she shook herself from head to toe. it was an usual movement, very much like a dog shaking off water. stepping out of the cloud of dust, she pushed the door open and stepped in.

she scanned the patronage tonight as she moved towards an empty seat at the bar. easing into the seat, she glanced around for any sign of a bartender and without one in sight she stood once again. with her palms pressed firmly against the edge of the bar she lifted herself up, swung her legs across and over the bar to land on the other side with relative ease. a smirk crossed her face as she pushed a strand of dark brown hair behind her ear. she grabbed a highball glass, flipped it in the air as she decided on what to drink.
 
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